Grace Latinggam

                                     Grace Latinggam

Grace is an outstanding poet in the vein of  Rita Dove in that her poetry  have the lyricism and beauty as well as a touch of her open and loving heart. She writes poems that range. Like a simple monologue between her alto ego that can send a eerie chill down your spine to presiding a native blessing over a child. She can mode you into her stories poem taking you flying into the skies along side eagles while they make love. Have you crying at the injustice of this world while also laughing tears of joy at its humanity.  Grace is gifted and she is also my friend. I hope to present more of her poems in the coming months. Thank you Grace for allowing me to present your work and for being my friend.

                             

                                                                                                 

                                                      Doing It For Mommy

Graze the fields of poppies 
and fly along the dancing petals 
Of little flowers in vast fields 
Singing wordless songs 
Lost alphabets in the trickling brook 
Lazy hands against her thigh 
Sneaking up to her mound 
Grazing pleasure to a texture 
Of dark velvet 
  
A throaty voice loved and trusted 
A husky laugh and a purring voice 
Soothes her mind like soft breeze 
She softly turned over 
Allowing bodies to engulf her 
Friction of mounting pleasure 
Sparkles between her legs 
Probing tongues and suckling lips 
She moans and embraces the bursting stars 
  
Heavy head and crusty eyes 
Tongues like caterpillar in her mouth 
Watch her mother take the fees 
For last night’s rendered services 
Felt her mommy’s embrace 
Felt her kisses and her whispers 
“Just a few more times baby 
We need the money to buy a house 
Then we will not do this anymore” 
  
The needle pricks her white arms 
The carousel starts again 
She looks up at the faces 
Greed and lust whirls 
“I need to do this for mommy 
Cause she has no money 
Daddy has left us you see 
We cannot pay our rent 
We need to buy our food too’ 
  
Mommy laughs and dances 
In her red high heels 
And thousand dollar dress 
She is not done milking 
The girl she gave birth to 
There are a lot of wear on her yet 
Let her serve her mother, she says 
‘After all, she owes me life 
She should repay it in kind’ 
  
She looks at the carousel 
So pretty they reached to the sky 
The pleasure between her legs 
The suckling and biting on her breasts 
Are beyond her now 
She took three syringes this time 
And a mouthful of pink ones 
She will burst and join 
The supernova in the sky! 

By Grace Latinggam